


These are the cheapseats.

by whatshisface



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Team 5ever - Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:30:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatshisface/pseuds/whatshisface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which the boys go in expecting to stay in one piece, and the plan works out well. for most of them, anyway. at least hearts aren’t getting broken while they find camaraderie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These are the cheapseats.

**Author's Note:**

> in lieu of valentines day I started this, and I don’t know where it’s going anywhere, so have alpha team drinking together and being ridiculous. pre-game, crossposted from my tumblr.

Somehow, some way, their schedules have lined up, and Alpha Team has managed to get the next three days off. It kicks in when they come back into the locker room, and they all have these small glances with one another as the excitement builds. There’s restrained celebration as they remove their gear, change into civilian clothing for the first time in a few months. Andy throws up the suggestion that they should go and have a drink together for the hell of it.

“We’ll drink to strike preemptively against the broken hearts for later today!”

The declaration is fine, triumphant and prepared as he buttons up his collar, reaching for his jacket soon after. He stands on one of the benches as she shoves his sleeves on, gets knocked down by Carl with a blow to the shin but he isn’t thrown off, still grinning. “Or because I know I can drink you all under the table.” None of them seem to protest at the challenge, start to agree as egos show, teasing and prodding at one another.

Poking his head out from above his locker door, Carl looks over to the group, pulling up his pants. “You want to take the rookie?”

Several pairs of eyes head in his direction at the mention, and Ben throws his boots, starts to unlace them. He raises a brow, thoughtful on it. “He’s still going through screening, isn’t he?”

Andy butts in at that, slides into the spot beside him. “Probably. Doesn’t mean he’s gone through our ‘screening’, though.” He makes air quotes with the word, shoulders rolling in a shrug that’s anything but guilty. “I like the idea, Carl! Your thoughts, gentlemen?”

Those two exchange a thumbs up with one another before they look over to the rest of the team. Ben shrugs with a devil-may-care attitude as he starts to put on his boots, follows his unit’s gaze across the room. Piers, at the far end of the row by his own locker, is fixing out the wrinkles in his clothes, pulling up his collar. Shaking his head when he realizes that three out of the other four in the room have eyes in his direction, he lets out a sigh, deals a look.

“I already said yes, didn’t I? Doubt the rookie’s awake at this time, though.” He jerks a thumb up at the clock hanging above, and he has a point. Carl, Ben, and Andy finish up putting away their things, quick to avoid the sharp look of their best shot. A locker closes and Chris looks up, smile easy on his face as he fixes his sleeves.

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? It’ll give us a chance to get to know him.”

Piers’ brows rise at the thought, but he brushes it off with a shake of his head and restrained sigh, closing his own locked door slowly.

Carl makes the call but when all he gets is ‘this is Finn Macauley’, they don’t bother trying for a second time. With the suggestion at a lost, Andy shakes his head and gets an arm around the shoulders of both Piers and Ben, steers them for the door.

“You snooze you lose, rookie. We’ll make sure he gets in on the fun when he’s an official member.”

He gets an eyeroll for the comment, but he isn’t deterred from the initial plan. Walker motions for the door as Carl and Chris bring up the rear. Eyes set forward, Ben speaks up this time, looking smug as he and Pier coordinate their movements, bring a leg up to kick open the doors before striding through.

“Not like the place I know is for newbies anyway.” They all exchange glances, unsure whether to be excited or concerned.

—

One thing to know about Ben is that he doesn’t lie. It’s a good thing Macauley didn’t pick up, or it would have been a hell of an initiation. 

Not even five minutes in, and they nearly get dragged into a fight with a rowdy bunch who’s already had too much in them. The boys on the other hand? They’re completely sober, but one thing to remember about Alpha is that good at what they do or not, they’ve got tempers with short fuses, especially when approached the wrong way, harassed for doing nothing.

(“B.S.A.A.? The hell is that, ‘boy scouts?’”

“Yeah the boy scouts of kicking your ass!”)

The hook that Piers delivers is a brutal one, and it’s the fist that sinks a thousand ships.

They stumble out of the bar somehow while the chaos is still going on; they’ve managed to squirm out without a casualty in sight, even if Ben is cradling a bag of ice to his cheek. The group all look in one piece for the most part, aside from the assorted dishevelment they’re all sporting, the slight tilting in their clothing minus the wobble in their step they don’t have. Andy stumbles over to Ben’s side, tries not to laugh loud at the displeased noise he gets.

“You want me to kiss it better?” He’s grinning like he won’t remember much of it tomorrow, but Ben knows he will.

“Maybe.” The reply gets Andy choking and it’s Ben’s turn to laugh like an ass. Shoving against one another, Carl walks inbetween that pair and the duo of Chris and Piers, who have decided to keep up the rear, for the sake of it. Piers’ ears are red, and he exhales through his nose, into the scarf wrapped snug around his neck. Chris looks over at him, gives a reassuring smile with a nudge. He says ‘it’s fine’ in a hush, and Piers shakes his head, gets his hands in his pockets. Change in plans, it isn’t that big of a deal, and besides, it isn’t as if any of them have been arrested.

They settle on Carl’s place instead of a bar - it’s a studio, and it’s cheaper than trail mix and fine liquors, purchasing the alcohol in bulk, rather than mixtures of drinks they probably won’t even enjoy to begin with. The atmosphere is warm, friendly and they learn that their dear alpha member is a little bit of a packrat, but out of sight and out of mind.

“Make yourself at home”, and it takes all he has not to laugh as nearly everyone tosses their jackets on the couch nearby in reply. Shaking his head he takes off his beanie, goes to look for a light. Some of the furniture around the place looks clunky in the darkness, but the ceiling light he turns on gives off a welcoming hum, surprisingly. Getting settled, the group separates across the area and soon enough the stove is running. They make some food to prepare themselves, and the group discovers that Andy has an affinity for making disgusting looking, but great tasting chili fries. If they’re going to get drunk, they might as well do it with something in their stomachs.

(Andy makes carne asada fries too, just to appeal to the meat-eater in their sniper. Piers’ approval is apparent from the way his face lights up.)

The hours pass and soon enough there are dishes piled in the sink, and some candles have been lit to get rid of the stench. Scattered across the room, Chris is settled at the counter while Piers is nearby on another stool, back to the wall. Andy is against the couch end looking to them while Ben is across it, face pressed into the bag of ice inbetween him and the armrest. Carl, having given up his dignity with Alpha long ago, lays on the counter, beer on his stomach. 

They joke, they tease, and at one point they even talk about battle plans that they’re not going to remember. Turning on his side, Ben grins, throws a question to the air.

“You guys got anyone special to celebrate Valentines with?” Everyone tries to straighten up, but no one really answers.

“I’m drinking with you guys, what do you think?” Chris has a wry look on his face, his smile a little twisted as he shrugs, takes back to nursing his bottle again.

“Aww, cap’n. I’d be your valentine any day.” Andy has this lazy smile on his face as he jokes, gets a laugh from a few. Piers rolls his eyes with some sort of fondness for the moment, despite the seriousness that resumes its course on his expression. “Married to the job?”

Giving a nod, he raises his drink in the other’s direction, then to everyone else. He clinks it against Carl’s and Piers’, as they’re the only ones in reach. “So are the rest of you, it seems.” A silence falls across the room, broken by a long exhale from Carl as he keeps to the ceiling, lips twisting into a frown.

“I signed up to fight against bio-terrorism, and wound up with you guys as a family. That’s not fair.”

There’s no response to that for a few moments, but then Piers speaks up finally, brows pressed together despite the smile he holds. “Agreed.” Ben and Andy look over, and the five of them nod quietly, each face holding personal thoughts, quiet approval to the supposed revelation they’ve all been brought to.

Ben, still cradling his eye, pushes himself up onto an elbow. “It’s been an honor, gentlemen.” Andy laughs lightly, reaches up to knock him against the chin without even looking; he misses, and laughs a little louder as he gets comfortable.

“It’ll keep being that way, got it?” Chris’ voice breaks through and there’s a soft smile on his face despite the flush in his cheeks — in all honesty, he hasn’t had nearly as much as the rest of the team. He hasn’t even touched his drink, actually— Piers can vouch for that. Regardless, the other four in the room seem to sober up at the implications, and in unison, they all look in their captain’s direction.

“Yes, sir.”


End file.
